flash fiction about a mischievous squirrel that causes chaos in your garden. 16. Describe a special moment when you felt truly connected to nature. What did it teach you about yourself and the world around you? 17. Write a letter to future generations, urging them to protect and cherish the natural world. 18. Create a detailed observation log of a specific species of bird that you have been monitoring throughout the challenge. 19. Write a poem inspired by the soothing sounds of a flowing stream or river. 20. Imagine you are a nature-inspired artist. Describe the masterpiece you would create using materials found in the great outdoors. 21. Write a short story about a group of friends who embark on an unforgettable camping trip in the wilderness. 22. Describe the most fascinating insect you have encountered during your challenge. What makes it unique? 23. Write a diary entry from the perspective of a tree, chronicling its experiences and the changes it witnesses over the course of a year. 24. Imagine you could communicate with one animal species. Which species would you choose and what would you ask them? 25. Describe a magical sunrise or sunset you have witnessed during your journey. How did it make you feel? 26. Write a letter to a future self, reflecting on the impact of the challenge on your relationship with nature. 27. Imagine you are a character in a wildlife-themed adventure novel. Describe the perilous situation you find yourself in and how you escape. 28. Write a poem celebrating the diversity and resilience of nature, even in the face of human challenges. 29. Describe the feeling of walking barefoot on cool, damp grass. How does it connect you to the Earth? 30. Write a short story about a hidden, enchanted forest where magical creatures dwell. What adventures await those who discover it? Feel free to adapt these prompts to suit your writing style or preferences.

The Wombwell Rainbow

Jun 5

Manvers Lake by Paul Brookes

Haibun for a secret pool

I found the pool in the winter, when all the leaves had fallen, the alley of trees that led to it, columns with no vault. The path beneath was thick with leaves and dug and scraped by pig and deer. A heron lifted slow, calling hoarse anger when we came near, the dogs and I.
The pool was deep in winter and still, white with fallen blossom in spring, and the summer trees are thick now all about, the alley of trees a nave again.

The water is ancient, coelacanth-green, dark-scaled reflecting no light, insect-dimpled, a skin that twitches, a stillness in perpetual motion, tail-flicked, bubble-trailed.

In the stillness we watch and listen, dogs silent as carp, as the pool, the trees, the whispering birds absorb our unnatural presence. We watch fish-shadows rise and drift from aeons ago through brown and green and grey, watch ageless mouths open, for an instant, in this world of bright ephemera, and insect skimmers rush out of the light and into prehistoric dark.

Still summer shadows
water dark as the spaces
between the stars.

Jane Dougherty

Bios and Links

Jane Dougherty

lives and works in southwest France. A Pushcart Prize nominee, her poems and stories have been published in magazines and journals including Ogham Stone, the Ekphrastic Review, Black Bough Poetry, ink sweat and tears, Gleam, Nightingale & Sparrow, Green Ink and Brilliant Flash Fiction. She blogs at https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/ Her poetry chapbooks, thicker than water and birds and other feathers were published in October and November 2020.